The Alpha-Bits in the Cereal
by SnowyBones
Summary: A collection of mostly unrelated one-shots, using the alphabet for the titles.
1. Alive

Disclaimer: Nope they aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them.

Author's Note: So I've seen this around before, and decided to give it a try myself. Basically, each one-shot in the collection uses a word starting with each letter of the alphabet. In this first one's case the letter 'A'. Each one-shot will be unrelated for the most part, but some may be linked. If anyone would like to suggest a word I'm all for it. Though I already have one for 'B' and one for 'D'. So any of the other letters are welcome. I hope you guys like this. :)

Summary: This one takes place during the Season 2 episode, "Aliens in a Spaceship". Begins right after Booth literally throws Thomas Vegas out of his office.

* * *

**Alive**

Booth stood staring at the wall of his office, his heart still pounding with both worry and adrenaline. He shouldn't have done that to Vega. But when he'd said that stuff about Bones. He'd just lost it.

He couldn't think of her dying. He _couldn't._ It physically hurt to think of it. He had to believe they would get too she and Hodgins in time. Before their air was gone.

His eyes strayed to the clock on the wall of his office, the third hand ticking slowly around the face, tick, tick, ticking the time away. Time that was quickly running out.

Booth felt anger rise and he tried to quell it. He felt so helpless. There had to be something he wasn't seeing. Some clue he was missing. Something.

He began to pace behind his desk, mind whirling with thoughts and ideas, each rejected one after the other. He didn't know how long he'd been pacing before the pinging sound of a text message coming through to his phone stopped him in his tracks.

_They'd found them! The squints had figured it out!_

He snatched his phone up so quickly in his haste that he almost dropped it. Flipping it open, he checked the message. And felt his stomach plummet. It wasn't from the squints after all. But as the message registered, he felt his heart begin to beat against his ribs once more.

It was from Bones! She had sent a message somehow. But what did it mean?

He stared at it, trying to decipher it's meaning.

6 7 16 M1.4

What did it mean? Was it a code? A message to one of the squints? To him?

Absently, he thumbed through the contacts on his phone and tried calling Brennan's cell, even though he knew it would be pointless. He lifted the phone to his ear, prepared to hear nothing at all when it began to ring and for one brief moment he felt excited. He was going to get through! He would be able to talk to her, to ask her what the message meant. To find out where they were buried. But as the minutes went by, the line just kept ringing and finally rolled to her voice mail.

Not ready to give up yet, Booth changed to the text screen and typed a short message. _This will work_, he told himself. Hitting send, he waited. And waited. No return ping. Just silence.

Frustrated and angry with himself for getting his hopes up, Booth tossed the phone on his desk again. Now what? How was he supposed to find them if he had no idea what the message meant?

He stared at the phone, willing it respond, to show him a way to find his partner before it was too late. But the phone sat mute on the desk, black and quiet.

His gaze lift from the phone to the clock on his office wall once more, time was running out. They would be out of air soon.

_No! I'm going to find them! I'm going to find her! I'm not giving up! _

Standing Booth grabbed up his phone, jacket, keys, badge and gun and fled his office.

If he couldn't figure out the message then he knew the squints at the lab could. They had too.

Booth rushed through the winding desks of the bullpen and ran to the elevator before deciding to take the stairs instead. He burst through the door and onto the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the ground level and the FBI parking garage.

He practically ran to the SUV and with a squeal of rubber, he flew out of the Hoover's underground parking garage, lights and sirens going. He had to get to the Jeffersonian before it was too late.

_She's not going to die. She's not. I will find her._

Booth kept repeating the thought over and over, like a mantra. He wasn't giving up on his partner. Never ever.

He made it to the Jeffersonian in record time and again practically flew into the underground parking garage and up the stairs (no time for the elevator here either), to the Medico-Legal Lab.

Running through the sliding glass doors he searched out the squints. "CAM! ANGELA! ZACK! Where are you guys!" He yelled, probably louder than he needed too. The security guards standing near the forensics platform each took a step towards him, hands held out.

"Agent Booth, you have to calm down, you can't just ..." one of them started to say.

Booth snapped, his worry and anger and hopelessness finally reaching a breaking point at the guards words. Just as they had in his office when Vega had suggested that Bones was going to die because they couldn't pay the ransom.

"I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! MY PARTNER IS BURIED ALIVE AND WE HAVE TO FIND HER BEFORE SHE RUNS OUT OF AIR! NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY OR I'LL SHOOT YOU!"

The guard actually took a step back at his words and the loudness of his voice when he spoke. Before Booth could say anything else however, he heard footsteps running towards him and he turned to see Cam hurrying towards him, Angela and Zack right behind her. Their faces were pinched with worry and fear.

"Booth, what's going on? Why are you yelling? Did something happen?" Cam asked when she was close enough. Instead of answering her, Booth pulled up the text message he had gotten and showed it to her.

"Tell me what it means," he demanded.

Cam stared at the message, her mind trying to come up with possibilities. "I-I'm sorry, Booth, I don't ..."

"Then figure it out! One of you has to know what this means!" he said desperately. "It's the only way we'll be able to find them. Please," he pleaded, voice cracking. He hated begging like this, but this was Bones, they had to find her. They had too.

"O-Okay, well let's get this up on a monitor so we can all see it and we'll figure it out," Cam said as calmly and gently as possible.

Booth nodded mutely and then followed the rest of the squint squad up to the platform. They were going to figure this out.

He refused to look at the screen with the clock ticking away the minutes until Brennan and Hodgins' air was out. He would not look at it. They were going to get to them before it was too late.

He hardly noticed Cam entering the message into the computer as he stood there; panic beginning to creep up on him._ No! I'm not going to give up! We will get them out!  
_  
"Okay, it up," Cam said from nearby. Booth looked around at each face as they studied the cryptic message Brennan had sent him. After several minutes of silence Booth felt the anger return. Why didn't they know!?

Frustrated he barked at them, "Does it mean anything to anyone?"

"They're getting low on oxygen," Cam stated matter of factually.

"Hypoxia leads to mental confusion," Zack told them, his voice betraying how nervous he was.

Booth swallowed down the angry retort that he wanted to snap at them both and instead said "It's Bones! It means something," though it ended up coming out angrier than he'd intended anyway.

"Did you just try dialing the number?" Angela asked.

"I tried all the dumb guy, normal stuff. Okay, that's why I'm here talking to the Brain Trust. All right. Think! Eggheads. Work it!" Booth snapped. He was quickly losing his patience. Why wouldn't they just figure it out! Bones and Hodgins were running out of air.

"Booth!" Cam snapped back at him, glaring. "They're not cops!"

Booth turned away from her, angry still. He knew they weren't cops. But they were the smartest people he knew and they had to figure this out.

"We're running out of time!" he said in anguish. Without his permission his eyes drifted to the clock that showed how much time was left and to Booth's horror it was down to seconds.

"Minor correction. Dr. Brennan and Hodgins run out of air in….4 seconds." Zack stated. And as Booth watched in what seemed to be slow motion, the numbers slowly ticked to zero. "We are out of time," Zack announced.

His heart stopped.

_No! No! We still haven't found them! No! The time can't be up! _He screamed inside his head.

Silence took over for several minutes as everyone stared at the clock, not able to comprehend that they had failed.

Then Cam broke the silence. "Okay. Zack figured out what stun gun The Gravedigger uses and how it's modified. Thanks to Angela, we know that The Gravedigger has a customized aluminum casing in the back of his vehicle…"

"I got about a hundred agents working that angle!" Booth exclaimed frustrated. They were spinning their wheels with facts they already knew. Slapping the monitor with the message he'd gotten from Bones, he growled, "What does this mean, right here. What does that mean?"

"You're forgetting something. Brennan and Hodgins are out of air," Zack stated, wondering how Booth could have forgotten this fact. It was useless to figure out the message now. Didn't he understand that? It wasn't logical to try to figure it now. Their time was up.

"Great. You wanna give up, huh? This is Bones we're talking about. And Hodgins. You really think they didn't find a way to extend their air supply?! Hell, they found a way to send us a message to ask us for help," Booth spat at Zack. Slapping the monitor once more, he practically shouted, "And you want to give up because of math!?"

Again his words were met with silence. He watched each of them in turn. None of them looking at him. And then it seemed something broke and it was a flurry of activity sudden.

Zack began to work out possibilities out loud. "It's not a numerical alphabetical code or an equation."

"It's not GPS coordinates or indications of topography," Angela mused.

"Great. Then what is it?" Booth huffed. He could feel his agitation growing. They had to figure this out before it really was too late!

No one answered. Each of them looking at each other until finally Cam gave an exasperated sigh. "Can I make a suggestion? See, this is exactly why I was sent here. You guys are brilliant, but you won't make intuitive leaps."

"You mean jump to conclusions?" Zack asked, sounding horrified at the very idea.

"That's exactly what I mean. This is a message from one of them to one of us. Specific. Focused. Who was it meant to get to?" Cam asked, hoping to get them started on the right path.

"Easy. Brennan's cell to mine, right? The message was for me. We have an understanding, we work together," Booth replied with the obvious truth. How was this helping?

"We _all _work together. She's my best friend. And Hodgins – Hodgins - "Angela snapped before her words were choked off at the thought of Hodgins.

"She's right. We should assume the message is from Hodgins not from Brennan," Cam said, finally feeling like maybe they were getting somewhere. _This has to be right._

Booth was skeptical, "Why?"

"Because, they're buried alive," Cam said.

"And Hodgins is all about dirt," Angela said, thinking out loud now.

"Okay. Great. The message is about dirt, but who's it to?" Booth asked, looking at each of them in turn. They were getting somewhere.  
_  
We're coming Bones. Hang on._

"Angela. Hodgins is all about dirt and Angela," Zack threw out.

"But it's numbers, Zack," Angela told him. "It's for you. Hodgins would have written me a line of poetry or something."

The sound of the doors into the lab swishing open drew Booth's attention from the discussion at hand and when he looked up Booth saw Vega and that reporter chick walking quickly towards the platform.

"Agent Booth. Janine used all her contacts to get me on all the local news shows. Now, I explained that we needed more time. I asked him to call. I'm sorry, but he's completely consistent," Vega told him, regret and sadness twinging his voice. Booth simply nodded at him and turned back to the team in front of him.

For a minute everyone was quiet and then Zack suddenly sprang to the computer, excitement coming into his voice as he spoke. "6, 7, 16. Carbon, Nitrogen and Sulfur on the periodic table of elements. They are buried in coal rich soil," he explained as he tapped keys on the computer. A map appeared with what Booth assumed to be locations of dozens upon dozens of coal mines in and around the D.C. area.

"Ya gotta narrow it down, Zack," Booth told him, his stomach knotting. _Come on find them! _He thought.

"Keep going, Zack," Angela encouraged while giving Booth a dirty look that said plainly, _He's going as fast as he can._

"Uh - mineral components of coal are all the same. It's the organic components that provide a unique fingerprint," Zack explained as he continued to tap keys. "They are called, mascerals. They fluoresce at different levels. A reflectance of 1.4 is quite rare – suggesting a high concentration of inertinite."

"Zack, tell me what that means," Booth said impatiently.

"It means he knows where they are," Angela stated with what sounded like hope.

"Zack…" Booth said pleadingly. _Please tell me you know.  
_  
And finally, hope blossoming in his heart, Booth heard the words he had been hoping for.

"I know where they are."

*~*  
The frantic, breakneck drive to the coal mine in Virginia where Zack had figured out Brennan and Hodgins were buried in seemed to take longer than it actually did. All Booth could think about was getting to them. Getting to Bones. He had to get to her.

His heart dropped when he saw the sheer size of the place. How were they going to find them? Everything looked the same. "I'm going to find her," told himself as he and all the others pulled into the mine.

The sound of the sirens faded into the background as Booth jumped from the SUV and surveyed the mine. _Where do we look first?  
_  
Turning to the others, he barked orders as they gathered at the edge of a sandy ridge. "Come on, people. They gotta be here. Just look for anything – tire tracks, recent digging, mounds, depressions, anything."

_We're here Bones. We're going to find you._

His eyes roved over everything, not missing anything. But it was all the same. Nothing looked disturbed. Everything was just flat._ God, please, give me a sign! Show me where they are! _Booth prayed silently.

And then he heard it. It sounded like a small charged explosion. Like a tire being punctured. His eyes searched for where he had heard the sound. And he saw it, a cloud of dust drifting in the air near the center of the sandy mine. Later he would learn that Hodgins and Brennan had used the airbags to blow out the windshield in a bid for freedom.

Without thought Booth scrambled down the embankment, slip, slipping through the sand until he was at the bottom, eyes still on the spot where he'd seen the explosion. He ran for all he was worth and when he reached the spot he fell to knees and started to dig with his bare hands.

"Bones, Bones, Bones" he chanted as he dug. _Please be alive. Please._ He added silently. After several minutes of frantic digging he saw it. Her hand, sticking out of the dirt. And he had never seen anything so wonderful in his life. He grasped it in both hands and started to pull. "I've got you Bones, I've got you," he told her as first her arm came through and then her head and then she was out.

And she was alive!

Booth was nearly giddy with relief as he placed her gently on the ground near where he'd dug her out. He looked her over and even with the covering of dirt in her hair and over the rest of her; she was the most beautiful thing Booth had ever seen.

"Get ... get Hodgins," she rasped out.

Booth took her hand in his as the others scrambled around them, digging with their bare hands as well until they had pulled Hodgins free as well.

When Booth heard him cough, he felt such relief that he started laughing. They'd done it. They'd saved them.

He turned to look back at Brennan and saw she was sitting up, looking just as giddy with relief has he was. Collapsing next to her, Booth looked at her and smiled. She smiled in return and Booth felt his heart swell.

She was alive.

And in that moment Seeley Booth finally let himself acknowledge what he had known since he'd first met her. He loved her. And maybe one day he'd be able to tell her. But for now, he was just grateful she was alive.

The rest would come when it was time. After all, everything happens eventually.

* * *

So what did you think? How was it? Horrible? Wonderful? Just okay? Leave me your thoughts. And please, be kind. And again, if you have any word suggestions, I will welcome them. :)


	2. Bones

Disclaimer: Yeah still not mine. Still property of Hart Hanson and Co. I am however 'borrowing' them for a minute. Just don't expect them back in the same shape they were in before. *wink*

Summary: This in the 'B' story in my Alphabet one-shot series. Hitman, turned pig farmer, Vince McVicar, taunts Brennan, making her question everything she thought she knew about her parents and herself. The final straw being the use of her birth name, a name that means nothing to Brennan, but which makes her question who she really is. Booth is there to remind her. Tag to Season 1 finale 'The Woman in Limbo'.

* * *

**Bones**

It was the smell that Brennan noticed first as she, Booth, and the pig farmer, Vince McVicar, walked into the large, hay strewn barn on McVicar's property. The stench was overwhelming, the smell of hay and rot permeating the air. Dust swirled in thick clouds in the random shafts of sunlight coming in through the gaps in the worn timber of the walls and ceiling.

Looking around, Brennan could see what had once been stalls for horses, and the sty where the pigs were kept. Rotting hay lay heaped in piles in the stalls and in various spaces along the worn floor. Also present were small, brown piles of dung, dried and shriveled, though a few hopeful flies buzzed above the piles, their bodies iridescent in the sunlight.

Reaching the middle of the barn, the three stopped, and Brennan detected another smell, this one very familiar to the forensic anthropologist. It was a sweet, fetid smell. The smell of death.

_He uses the barn to kill his livestock_, she thought with revulsion, her stomach churning sickly. Closing her eyes, arms wrapping around her middle, she tried to block out the smells, to concentrate on the task at hand. Trying to get McVicar to confess what he knew about her parents. About her mother's murder.

As he talked however, Brennan felt more and more off balance, her world shifting and crumbling around her with each word he spoke.

"I was there," McVicar told her, bowing his head, pushing his thinning hair away to reveal a long, twisting scar on his scalp. "Thirty-two stitches."

"She fought back huh?" Booth said an edge to his voice.

"Yeah, Ruthie fought back alright," McVicar said smoothly, "But not against me."

Brennan felt something heavy drop into her stomach like lead. Who else would her mother fight back against, if not her murderer?

Swallowing hard, she asked the question she wasn't sure she wanted answered. "Then against whom?"

McVicar looked back at her, something in his eyes changing, though she couldn't put her finger on what it was. A smirk painted itself into his face as he spoke his next words, "Your father."

Brennan felt as though the floor were caving at her feet. "What?" she whispered, shock coloring her voice._ No! No! That's not right! He's lying!  
_  
Vaguely she heard Booth ask McVicar why her father attacked him, his voice edged with steel.

When Brennan looked back up again, she saw the smirk playing on McVicar's face once more and when he spoke again, each word was like a physical blow to her sternum.

"Think about it a second, alright?" McVicar said, a kind of smugness coming into his voice.

His words hung in the silence between the three as the implications became clear. Brennan felt nausea start to swirl in her stomach, bile rising to the back of her throat. "Y-you? You ...and ... and... My ... my mother?" she asked in disbelief.

McVicar snorted and shook his head at her, as though she was a very slow child. "Me and Ruthie had run off together. Max caught us pulling into a motel outside of Champaign, Illinois," he said, pausing in his speech to paint a sappy grin on his face that only increased the bile rising in Brennan's throat at the sight of it before he continued. "We were ... nuts about each other, Ruthie and me. Crazy in love ..." McVicar went on, seemingly getting more excited as he spoke.

Booth, disgust coloring his words cut McVicar off, seeing how upset Brennan was getting with each passing minute. "Okay ...let's... let's just skip that part, okay?" he told the hitman turned pig farmer, the iciness of his voice obvious.

McVicar tensed and swallowed at the warning and was quiet for several seconds before he spoke, this time his voice becoming softer, quieter. "Ah well he hit Ruthie first."

"With what?" Brennan asked sharply.

"A tire iron," McVicar replied, his voice still full of that fake solemnity it had taken on in the last few minutes. "Hit my arm, caught me round my head. Lights out baby. Came too, Max and Ruthie were gone; never saw neither of them again. If you ask me, Max killed Ruthie and buried her somewhere and vanished." He said it all like he was talking about a grocery list, and Brennan felt anger, white hot and molten sear through her. Before she could speak however, McVicar spoke again, this time directly to her. "Our plan," he started, "Once we set up, most likely in Florida, was to bring you down."

McVicar watched with obvious relish now the affect his words were having on Brennan and continued to press his point, growing more excited as she got more and more visibly upset even as she tried to hide it. "Your father is a hard man, Joy," he told her.

The use of the name she had had at birth, but which meant nothing to her, felt like a blow to her stomach and Brennan balked. "My name is _Brennan_," she said, emphasizing her last name, the one that she knew was really hers. Or at least she thought was hers. Suddenly she felt a panic rise in her chest, tight bands squeezing her lungs, and she struggled to speak. "I'm Dr. _Temperance _Brennan."

McVicar's only response was to give her the sort of look that told her plainly he didn't care who she thought she was. That he had enjoyed making her feel the pain she was feeling. Smirking at her once more, McVicar finally turned and began to walk out of the barn, his boots scraping the hay strewn floor as he walked.

Brennan felt the world spinning out of control and tried to right it, to take back control the only way she knew how. By stating facts. "I work at the Jeffersonian Institution. I'm a forensic anthropologist. I specialize in identify - "her words choked off, a lump lodging in her throat. She shook her head, as if by doing so it would make it easier to speak. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill over. _No! I will _not_ cry. I _won't! Taking a breath, she tried to speak again, "In identifying ... in identifying people when no one else knows who they are. My father was ... a science teacher. My mother was a bookkeeper... My brother ... I have a brother ... I'm _Dr. Temperance Brennan ..." _Finally the tears started to spill and Brennan couldn't get the words out any longer._  
_  
Behind her Booth spoke softly as he placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle. "I know who you are," he told her quietly. "Hey, I know." Hearing his words, she turned blindly towards him and found herself wrapped in his embrace, his hands rubbing her back gently as he told her it would be all right.

Continuing to cry into Booth's shoulder, thoughts swirled in Brennan's mind. _Who am I? How do I_ _know who I am anymore? I-I'm not Joy. I've never been Joy. I don't remember _being_ Joy. But if I'm not Joy, then who am I?_ _Am I Temperance? Am I Temperance Brennan? If I'm not Temperance, then who am I?  
_  
The tears fell hot and slick and unchecked for several long minutes as Booth continued to hold her, whispering words of comfort. "I know who you are, I know. I know who you are," he kept whispering over and over.

Abruptly she pulled way, her face blotchy and tear streaked, and in a voice that was full of anxiousness and confusion, she looked at Booth and whispered brokenly, "Who am I?"

The pain in her voice stabbed Booth in the heart when he heard it. His usually sure and confident partner was falling apart in front of him, all thanks to the maliciousness of a man who got off on seeing and causing pain in others. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down into her eyes and said firmly, "I know who you are. You're my partner. You help me catch the bad guys. You are the best in the world in your field. And you are my friend. Alright, Bones? You are who you want to be. Not what some asshole says you are. Alright?"

Brennan was quiet, the only sound coming from her being the soft snuffling sounds she was still making, her tears still falling silently. After several minutes, she looked up at Booth; close up he could see the unshed tears shimmering in her blue grey eyes. Several beats of silence passed their eyes locked, brown to blue until Brennan finally broke her silence.

"You mean it? You know who I am?" she asked, sounding very small in that moment. Booth's heart clenched at the sound of it. Nodding, he whispered, "Yeah, Bones, I know who you are."

For the first time in minutes a small, albeit watery, smile twitched at the corners of Brennan's lips. "Don't call me, Bones," she said, though there was no bite to it, just a teasing sort of lilt.

Feeling some of the tension drain out of him at the sight of both her smile and the teasing lilt to her voice, Booth returned her smile with one of his own. "Sorry, Bones, not gonna happen," he told her.

"Good," she replied. Though she had never liked nicknames, not since her days in foster care, in this instance, after everything that McVicar had said to her, all the wounds that had been re-opened since finding her mother's skeleton had been in Limbo all these years, and the questions both had raised; and the doubts and pain, Brennan decided that having this particular nickname was okay. After all, it described exactly both who she was and what she loved doing most. Working with skeletons to give back their identities. It was her identity.

_Bones._

* * *

_How was it? Love it? Hate it? Not sure? Please, leave a review and tell me your thoughts. And as always, please be kind._


	3. Clarity

Disclaimer: Sadly still not mine. But borrowing them is fun. *evil grin*

Summary: The 'C' story in my little alphabet series. This is tagged to 'The Hole in the Heart' and is my take on that missing scene in that episode that we never got to see.

AN: I so sorry it's taken me so long to get this out. RL plus a case of writers block and my Smut Muse going AWOL on me, has kept me from this one. And also the first 3 drafts of this I hated and deleted. This is the final outcome and the one I'm happiest with. I hope you all enjoy it too.

* * *

**Clarity**

Booth was up like a shot as the hinges of his bedroom door creaked open, swiftly grabbing the gun that lay on his nightstand. He was upright in seconds; arms extended, gun gripped firmly in both hands as the door swung open.

It was the gasp of a quickly inhaled breath that stayed his finger near the trigger, and then the door was half open when his partner, Temperance Brennan, peaked her head around its edge, eyes and cheeks shinning with tears.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice choked and nasal from crying. She held her hands in front of her, palms out; as if to prove to him that she wasn't someone who was going to harm him.

"No, I'm sorry. Sorry," Booth told her, throwing the covers aside and sitting up, all the while still holding the gun out, ready to spring if there was danger. "Did you hear something?"

"No ... no ... no," she denied, standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking wary of the gun he still held.

"Do you want me to put the gun away?" he asked her, even as he reset the weapon's safety, his heart pounding.

"Yes," she told him, her voice soft.

Booth set his gun on the nightstand and turned back to look at his partner. He could see the tracks of tears on her face even in the dim light of his bedroom, and his heart constricted.

Seconds passed before Brennan stepped into the room. She stood still, looking uncertain of her place in this room. Booth wanted to go to her, but he knew if he did, whatever it was that she came in here to say would remain unsaid. Instead he waited. He watched her as she drew a breath, as if gathering her courage to speak the words she held within herself.

"He kept saying _'Don't make me go,_'" she whispered, voice catching on the last words.

Again, Booth felt his heart constrict, knowing she was speaking about Vincent. He too remembered those words the dying man had spoken, desperate to hang onto life, to stay in this world.

Booth realized that he'd been quiet too long and that Brennan had taken his silence to mean confusion as she clarified, "Vincent," she said, barely able to speak her intern's name, the raw pain in her voice obvious. "He was looking at me and saying, _'Don't make me leave'_. He said that he …" Again, she stopped, emotion clogging her voice. Booth watched her eyes skitter away from him for a moment so she could collect herself. But even as she began again, her voice was still thick with unshed tears.

"That he loved being there. Why did he think that _I'm_ the one making him leave? What kind of person am I?"

The pain and confusion in these words struck Booth hard in the heart. She thought Vincent had been talking to her; that his dying words were directed at her.

_Oh, Bones._

"Oh, Bones, no. Come here," he said, holding his hand out to her. For a moment he was sure she was going reject both the offer to come closer and his hand. So he was surprised when she not only took his hand; her palm warm and smooth against his cooler, rougher one, but also when, once seated beside him on the edge of his bed, she didn't let go. Suddenly, everything felt intimate in a way that it hadn't before, making his heart start beating a tick faster than normal.

"No, no, no, Bones. You got that all wrong, alright. You got it all wrong," he tried to explain slowly but she cut him off.

"No, Booth, I-I heard him. You did too."

Booth saw the frustration etch itself into her features, before she exhaled a loud rush of air through her nostrils and spoke again, this time slowly, almost deliberately, as if by saying it this way he would finally understand her meaning.

"_'Don't make me leave.'_ That's what he said," she repeated, hoping he would understand this time.

Only he already did and when he spoke next it was with gentleness, "He wasn't talking to you."

He knows she doesn't understand, because she doesn't believe in the same higher power he does. He watched her tilt her head in the way that she always did when she thought he was being difficult on purpose before telling him, "I was the only one there." Again she paused, as if picturing the scene again, seeing Vincent on that floor, the dark pool growing beneath him, before adding, "And you. He wasn't talking to you." This last is spoken in a way that makes it clear to Booth that she knows Vincent was really talking to her. Or at least it's what she believes is true.

Swallowing hard, and without thinking Booth told her what he believed was really going on on that platform. "He was talking to God. He didn't want to die."

Immediately Brennan was shaking her head in denial, "No, Vincent was like me, Booth. He was an atheist," she told him firmly.

_Oh. Right,_ Booth thought with an inward wince. Thinking quickly he amended his statement. "Okay, he was talking to the universe then. He didn't want to go. He wasn't ready, Bones. He wanted to stay."

His words strike her in the same way hers had struck him a few minutes previous when she'd thought she was the one making Vincent leave. Confusion and anger start to color her features, and in a broken voice she asks the question that Booth has asked himself many times during his life, especially during his years in the army.

"But, if there was a God, then why didn't he let Vincent stay here with us?" Her tears are starting to fall faster now, as she waits expectantly for Booth to give her the answer that she wants. Booth felt his heart drop knowing that he couldn't give her any more than the simplest and truest explanation.

'That's not how it works," Booth told her sadly, wishing with all his heart that it did so. He watched her as his words sunk in and then her face crumbled. The tears started coming faster than before and then she was leaning toward him.

"Could you just …?" Brennan whispered, her voice sounding small and lost as the full weight of losing Vincent finally starts to sink in.

Without hesitation, Booth reached for her and wrapped his arms around her already shaking frame and pulled her into his chest, letting them fall back on the mattress as she began to truly grieve the loss of her favorite intern.

"Yeah, it's why I'm here. Shh, I know it's hard," he whispered to her, rubbing his hands in gentle circles along her back.

Her tears were soaking into his t-shirt and her frame shook under his hands as she sobbed; each one a stab to his heart; and in that moment, Booth knew he would kill Broadsky. He would kill him for hurting her like this, for taking yet another person from her life, adding to the painful number who had already left her in some way.

Most especially he would kill him for taking so many others' lives away, Vincent's being the worst. That kid would never get to see what his full potential could be. Never get to publish that paper he and Bones had been working on for so long.

Never know what it would feel like to truly fall in love. Never know the joy of becoming a dad.

Booth was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that Brennan's sobs had quieted to soft sniffling sounds. His hands continued their gentle circles on her back, his arms holding her securely against him.

It was when she lifted her head that he looked down at her. Her eyes were red and wet, her cheeks shinny from her tears, but she had never looked more beautiful to him. Suddenly he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her; to pour himself into her and chase the grief and the pain right out of her body somehow.

"Booth," she whispered, her voice low, still clogged with emotion.

"Yeah, Bones, I'm here. Shh, I'm here," he soothed, wishing he knew how else to take the pain he saw in her eyes away.

"I-I don't want any more regrets," she said softly, "I-I realize now that I think I've finally lost the last of my imperviousness."

Booth stared at her, his heart rate skyrocketing. Did she? Was she? Licking his lips, Booth looked back into her beautiful blue-grey eyes and asked, "Are you sure?"

Brennan looked back at him and nodded. "Yes," she whispered, "No more hiding. No more regrets."

There was a second's pause and then their lips connected in a soft kiss, just a gentle press of lips as if they were both afraid the other would back out. As the minutes ticked away though, the kiss grew more passionate until Booth's tongue was sweeping into her mouth, tangling with her tongue; until they were swallowing each other's moans.

Hands roamed, slipping under the hems of shirts where fingers splayed over warm, soft skin. Soon Booth had lost his t-shirt and Brennan's fingertips danced over his bare chest, a breath hissing between his teeth when she brushed his flat nipples.

Smiling mischievously Brennan did it again, eliciting another harsh exhale from Booth.

"You," he breathed after he got his breath back somewhat, "are an evil woman, Bones."

Brennan chuckled before running the flat of her tongue along his collarbone and Booth lost all ability to think for several seconds.

"Mmm, you taste better than I imagined," Brennan commented before letting her tongue drag along Booth's prominent Adams apple, then along his slightly stubbled chin and acne scarred jaw. Booth meanwhile was running his hands along the bare plain of Brennan's back under the borrowed sweatshirt, occasionally dragging his hands down to her round ass, filling his hands with the perfect globes.

"Booth," Brennan panted as he did this again.

That seemed to be all the permission Booth needed. Quickly he divested Brennan of the sweatshirt, leaving her in nothing but a pair blue cotton panties.

Upon seeing her for the first time, Booth stated with reverence, "God you are so beautiful, Bones."

Brennan blushed slightly and then crushed her lips against his.

They continued to kiss and undress each other until they were both naked. They explored each other, learning each other's bodies until they could take it no longer and Booth slipped inside her for the first time.

"Oh, oh, Bones, god you feel so good," Booth panted, holding himself still, afraid to that if he moved this would all be over much quicker than either of them wanted it to be. She was so warm and tight and incredible.

"Move, Booth. _Please," _she pleaded, squeezing him slightly with her inner muscles.

Booth's breathe caught at this and he tried to keep himself together as he began to move, drawing almost all the way out of her body before snapping his hips forward and burying himself inside her all over again.

The sounds of their love making danced around them, like music and as their moans peeked, their cries blended into one melody as they both shattered. At the moment Brennan broke apart, the fluttering of her muscles triggered Booth's own release and his voice joined hers as he spoke her name like a prayer over and over again.

Collapsing, his arms unable to hold him up anymore, Booth let his weight rest on Brennan for a few minutes as he caught his breath before he rolled off her, slipping from her body with regret, but pulling her with him until she was tucked into his side.

Finally their breathing evened out and Booth pressed a kiss to the top of Brennan's head, feeling her damp hair beneath his lips.

"That was amazing," he said quietly.

"Yes, it was," Brennan agreed as she tucked her head under his chin. After a minute she spoke again, "I was right too."

Booth laughed, "Right? About what?"

"We are just as compatible as I always thought we were. Our love making was very satisfying," she explained.

Booth smiled. "Yeah, yeah it was," he said.

They lay quietly together and it was as the haze of release lifted that the reason for Brennan being at his apartment that night came back to Booth. Losing Vincent; Broadsky. Suddenly Booth was more than a little scared. Swallowing, he tried to voice the question that he was almost afraid to have answered.

"Bones? This … this … I mean … this wasn't just …" his voice trailing off.

Lifting her head slightly so she could see his face, Brennan asked him, "Wasn't what, Booth?"

Sighing, Booth ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and almost groaned when he could still taste her there. "I mean, this wasn't just a one off right? This is … this is for keeps, right? I mean, you know I don't …"

A smile lit Brennan's face as she latched onto what he was trying to say, "Yes, Booth this is for keeps. Like I said, no more hiding, not from this, not from us. I-I want to be with you."

Booth let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and looked down at her, a light coming into his eyes that she had never seen before. "Good," he whispered. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Booth smiled and repeated, "Good."

They lay in silence for several long minutes both lost in their own thoughts.

Booth knew they still had a lot to talk about and he knew that in the morning he would be going out to find Broadsky. He knew that he could very well not come back from it. But as he lay in bed, holding the woman that had captured his heart all those years ago in the lecture hall at American University, he vowed he would come back to her when it was over. That he would not leave her the way so many had before. Though he knew such a vow was foolish, he was going to keep it.

Seeley Booth was a man of his word. And he couldn't let her down. Not now. Not when they were just starting something wonderful together. Not when they were starting what Booth hoped was their 30 or 40 or 50 years together.

* * *

So what did you think? Please, leave me your thoughts. As always, be kind. Thank you.


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